


I'll Say it for You

by TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: A Consulting Daddy, Age Play, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub, Dominance, Gags, Gloves, Johnlock - Freeform, LIttleBoy!John, Little Space, M/M, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Rope Bondage, Shibari, Spanking, Uncle Jimmy, Voyeurism, Yes Sir, daddy!sherlock, light smacking, mormor, naughty words, sub space
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22624348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone/pseuds/TobiBooneTheSmallSpoone
Summary: John has a secret fetish, Jim finds out and decides perhaps he'd like to watch this play out?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 17
Kudos: 78





	1. All in Knots

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Isnt_It_Strange (Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caring_Is_Not_An_Advantage/gifts).



It had started as it should. Every time was pretty much the same so that John could make a list of what would happen:

    1. Sherlock got case
    2. Sherlock insisted John go on case
    3. Sherlock and John split up
    4. John gets captured
    5. Sherlock arrives at last minute
    6. _Monologues_
    7. Sherlock saves John
    8. Rinse and Repeat



Honestly John was so good at the routine that he stopped bothering to even bring a handgun, that and most of the time he’d discovered guns were just for show at about two-thirds of these little capers and . . . and . . . John stopped putting up resistance when he was found. He stopped trying to  _ not  _ be found by the bad guys. He stopped struggling when he was put in restraints. Stop demanding things, stop trying to intimidate them with possible scenarios of ‘when he/they/the police find me’ . . . stopped being impatient as Sherlock would casually lay out the villains plans for them . . . In fact, the tension only made the ropes or handcuffs or zip-ties biting into his skin more . . .  _ pleasant _ ?

John sat there, tied to a chair and staring into cold, dark, calculating eyes. The doctor’s eye twitched ever so slightly at the smirk on Moriarty’s face. his perpetual smattering of stubble always annoyed John, like he couldn’t be bothered to shave even though he could probably pay someone to do it for him but then Jim more than likely would consider having to hold still for so long with a blade to his throat without the threat of slashing mundane at best.

“Why, Dr. Watson . . . “ Moriarty drawled, pouting his lips and leaning even further closer, his breath right by John’s ear, “I think . . . I think you have a concealed weapon in your trousers . . . That’s odd though because the last, what was it? six? Seven?, times I’ve nabbed you, you weren’t packing so much as nail clippers.”

John stared straight ahead and pursed his lips, jaw tightening.

Moriarty giggled and ran the barrel of his handgun up John’s thigh to stroke and prod the bulge there, “Now, I know you aren’t fond of me and don’t worry, darling, you aren’t my type either. Too short . . . “ He giggled again and sat back on his heels, looking up at John with a mockingly sweet expression on his face as he reached over and tried to fondle the doctor only for John to try to shift back and away, “As I was saying, I know that isn’t for me so what is it for? The thrill of being captured? The danger? No . . . no, you didn’t get that lovely little erection until  _ after  _ I had you tied up, oh sure, it was a little chubby when they brought you in but I think, and correct me if I’m wrong but I know I’m not so you can keep your mouth shut, but I think that a certain  _ someone  _ enjoys being restrained.”

John said nothing, he didn’t have to, the blush that crept over his cheeks and ears was enough.

Jim laughed, his smile widening to painful dimensions and he bounced a bit, “Oh! Does our sweet Sherlock know? Does he know? I’ll bet he has no clue! No clue!” The crime lord slowly rose to his feet and leaned back on his heels, looking down his nose at John, “I’ll tell you what, this was an  _ enlightening  _ little chat, Johnny boy, so I’m going to let Sherlock find you- Oh, no no no, don’t look so scandalized, we’ll wait til your boner is bye-bye first, don’t worry! But I’ll let him find you. Now, about your boner.”

John pulled back in the seat again, “Don’t  _ touch  _ me.”

Jim’s eyebrow rose and he frowned, “I already told you,  _ you are not my type,  _ John Watson. You know how much I hate repeating myself and I’m not a rapist, asshole. You are really trying my patience, you know that? Now, do you want our precious Sherlock to see you sitting here blushing like a virgin with your cock at attention or do you want him to find you calm and relaxed?”

John frowned, “Why do you care?”

Jim shrugged, “Let’s just say that you’ve given me some things to think about and I prefer to do my thinking in the bath so unless you’d also like to witness that-”

“No.” John shook his head.

“Thought not . . . “ Jim pouted again and sighed, putting his gun away, “Anyway, I  _ don’t  _ care about you in the slightest, if anything, I find you an irritating addition to mine and Sherlock’s love affair.”

John watched the little madman walk around and disappear behind him, “Love affair?”

“That’s what we’re doing, isn’t it? He and I? Making verbal, violent love to each other, trying to outdo each other with the intricacy and intimacy of our professions? Or do you think that I really need to capture you, set up stupid schemes for him to solve and then skip away at the last second? None of this is real, John, none. I think he knows it too but we have too much fun to-” There was a snipping sound and the ropes were cut and John had to hold in a grunt of disappointment, then Moriarty continued, “Worry about  _ details. _ ”

John stared down at the rough rope that had been keeping him to the chair as it fell away, he glanced back not standing up, “ . . . so now what?”

Jim came back around and shrugged, “You have a choice, either you let me sashay back out of here and tell Sherlock I got bored, which wouldn't be far off, or you try to apprehend me. I don’t have to tell you which I prefer and which you will ultimately do, do I?”

John slowly stood, adjusting himself as Jim watched with wide eyes and a smirk, “ . . . and about the rest?”

“ _ Details _ , Dr. Watson, boring, mundane, commonplace, absolutely unremarkable _details_ ,” Jim shook his head and turned to leave, holstering his gun, “Until I decide otherwise, they are inconsequential and stupid. Ta-ta!”

* * *

John went to check the mail, Sherlock was out somewhere doing something that he failed to disclose to John so . . . There was a neat stack waiting at the bottom of the stairs, John scooped them up and flipped through them. Nothing of real interest today eit-

There in the middle of the stack in an embossed envelope with their address and his name in neat, looping type with no return address caught his attention. John turned it over, sniffed it, shook it and felt it for anything suspicious before carefully undoing the flap and pulling out a thick piece of stationary that also had looping, neat script,

**_Dear Johnny,_ **

**_Think I found a solution to your little ‘problem’ but you’re going to have to cooperate with me. I know you want to so just read my note and do as I say and all your wildest dreams will come true. Go to the coffeehouse at the end of the street, come alone, wear something cute. I really like that black and white striped sweater of yours. Trousers optional._ **

**_Love,_ **

**_JM_ **

John stared at the note, this was extremely unusual considering how often emails and texts were used between them all for communicating and here was a handwritten note. “Unless he knew that Sherlock doesn’t check the mail often and wouldn’t see- ah.” John flushed as he reread the note then sighed, he went upstairs, changed, grabbed his jacket and stepped out into the late autumn air.

* * *

“I didn’t expect you to come!” Jim smiled broadly, “Well, after this I will but until then-”

“The _point_ , Moriarty, get to it.” John muttered as he ordered a black coffee and sat down opposite, begrudgingly wearing the asked-after sweater.

“There’s a seat right next to me and you sit way over there?” Jim pouted and leaned back, resting his arm on the back of the aforementioned vacant seat, “That eager to get to business are we?”

“What problem do I have, what solution do you think I need and why are you doing this?” John demanded, prodding the tabletop with each question.

“Can’t we just sit and talk for a moment or two before business? I so rarely get to go out and just enjoy myself . . . “ Jim sighed and lolled his head back before leaning forward and taking a sip from a half-drank coffee that was almost white with how much milk was in it and whipped cream dissipating on top.

“I’m leaving in two seconds if you don’t-”

Jim’s expression hardened and he glared over the rim of his cup then set it down, “No you won’t, because you want to hear what I have to say. You want my help. And you won’t leave because you and Sherlock are two of the most hopeless, oblivious morons that have ever walked the earth. On one hand we have our precious Sherlock, desperately confused by himself but he hides every little twitch of that prodigious cock of his under layers of work and with frustration so palatable that I can taste it every time it’s my turn for the dance. Then we have you, with an overactive libido and nowhere to put it, a twitchy, excitable little cock with a taste for shibari. While Sherlock doesn't make a move out of some kind of anxiety or nervousness or maybe it’s just that he never tried, virgin that he is . . . you’re not like that, Johnny, you’re a hot-blooded veteran, you crave action but you also want tenderness and you’ve tried  _ so many times  _ to put someone else in that place but you keep drifting back to Sherlock, an enigma of sharp cheekbones and a tight arse. Am I wrong?”

John watched the girl set his coffee down with lowered lashes and didn’t respond beyond blushing.

Jim nodded slowly, “I like that about you too, Johnny, you let me monologue and you actually absorb what I say. Why do you think I kill everyone else that gets in my way and just tie you up? Well, that and it would hurt Sherlock a lot if I offed you and while I- Oh, sorry, we’re here to talk about you and your penis, not mine.” He leaned forward again, smiling, “John, I know your secret.”

“Oh?” John asked softly, biting his lip, “And what is it?”

“You enjoy it. The capturing part is fun for you but there’s another thing you enjoy,” Jim leaned even closer on his elbows, eyes wide and the smile stretched, “You enjoy the thought that Sherlock will save you, look between your legs and see your erection. You’re hoping  _ this time  _ he won’t ignore it out of politeness, you’re hoping he’ll say something about it so you can stutter out some excuse, some reason for having a boner in the middle of this situation and you’re hoping that he’ll gently put a finger to your lips and whisper something dull and sappy like ‘I always knew’ or ‘I understand’ or ‘let me suck that for you’. You desperately want him to touch you, to not cut the ropes but to  _ touch  _ you and you hope that he’ll sweep aside his long trench coat that you sometimes brush a hand against when it’s hanging up, and Sherlock will also be erect. He’ll say nice, sweetly stupid things to you, he’ll touch you, he’ll make you come. I suspect you'd like something rougher and a bit more . . . cruel? But that's for you to work out, I can only give so much.That blush and your silence answer questions I already knew the answers to.” He sipped his coffee and ordered another one since his was cold now and he didn’t want it.

John said nothing for a span and stared at his rapidly cooling beverage then he took a slow breath through his nose, “So . . . you’re going to blackmail me now?”

“Blackmail?” Jim blinked, “What an ugly notion! John, sweetheart, you surprise me! I do intend to use this information for my own amusement but more in a I-want-to-touch-myself-while-I-watch kind of way. Besides,” He smiled as his fresh coffee was brought, “This could be so much fun! And I do so enjoy talking about other people’s sex lives.” He wiggled his eyebrows and sipped his coffee, grimacing that now it was too hot.

“Fine, so you aren’t going to blackmail me, then what do you want?”

“I told you. I want to watch.” Jim shrugged, “Not the sex thing, you two can be alone for that and I detest the idea of not participating but I’m willing to do this for you, Johnny boy, just because it amuses me at the moment and my other ventures are on hold, don’t give me that look, I’m still a criminal and no I’m not going to monologue and let something slip so stop getting hopeful.” 

“Fine! Fine, then  _ what  _ are you going to do?” John snapped, forgetting his coffee altogether.

“I’m going to kidnap you.” Jim smiled, “So here’s what we’re going to do-”

* * *

John stood in the room and shivered, “Do I have to-”

“Yes, shut up.” Jim shoved a chair into the center of the room, “I thought you agreed to do everything that I asked without question?”

“You just _said_ that, I didn’t agree to any-”

Jim stood up, delicately wiping his brow on a handkerchief with ‘SH’ embroidered on one corner and straightened his suit, “You’re here, aren’t you?”

John shifted and glared at him, “Just . . . what are you planning?”

“Take off your clothes. You can leave your underpants, that’s fine, won’t matter in a bit. And speaking of  _ bits _ , is someone perhaps getting a little excited? Hm?” Jim sauntered over, indicating John’s crotch with his chin.

John shifted uncomfortably again and tried to hide the slight bulge of his trousers, “Shut it.”

“Why do you insist on being so  _ guarded  _ with me? I didn’t even bring a gun!” Jim laughed then frowned, “Don’t get any ideas, I might not have a gun but there are several well-paid individuals nearby with them. Now off with your clothes.”

John’s blush intensified and he swallowed, “Could you turn around?”

Jim looked disappointed and rolled his eyes, “It won’t ma- fine, _prude_.” He turned around and chuckled, “Well I’ll get bored if I just stand here so I’ll talk, I’m good at that. When you’re through, sit in the chair and be quiet. Sherlock won’t be too long and we need you nice and ready for him. Whatever will he do, doctor? When he finds you tied to a chair, almost naked with an erection and me nowhere in sight? I wonder if he’ll be surprised. Maybe he’ll think you planned all of this. I’m not even asking if these are possibilities either because I know what he’ll do, would you also like to know?”

John said nothing and folded his clothes and set them on top of his loafers.

“He’ll stand there, perfectly still with those bright, intelligent eyes skittering about trying to figure out the game. He doesn’t realize that I don’t always  _ want  _ to play, that sometimes I just like to chase and kill, sometimes kitty just wants to watch someone scramble for shelter and do nothing.”

John paused and stared at Jim’s back, his heart started to race as he realized he was alone, unarmed and almost naked with a very dangerous man. He glanced at the door.

Jim looked over his shoulder and smiled, “Oh, I’ve unnerved you. That’s fine, you should be nervous about me. Today, however, Johnny boy, is your lucky day because I am more than happy to just tease and play with my prey. Kitty’s bored and you’re so entertaining.” His eyes raked over John’s body, “Hmm _yes_ . . . sit down.”

John sat down, putting his hands on the armrests and he let Jim spread his legs a bit, “So . . . you’ll tie me up and leave, just like that?”

“Just like that.” Jim nodded and produced a long nylon cord instead of the rough rope and began to do complex ties around John’s legs, arms, and middle, “But you have to do all the legwork, John, darling, you have to tell him what you want and you have to give it to him. You have to speak up because he’ll walk in here, see you like this and not really know why, he’ll suspect I was trying to rape you or molest you which, I might add, is  _ not  _ my bag, too much of a power bottom for that shit and I don’t like you enough to expend the energy. He’ll assume I’ve hurt you or forced you to do something, he’ll assume everything except the truth so when he comes in and you see him trying to do that little mind trick he does where he sees everything, point out the obvious.” Jim’s deft hands criss-crossed the cord above John’s groin then slid the ropes down on either side of John’s y-fronts and back around his thighs, “Although the erection you’re sporting might help him a bit, also your lovely blush.” Jim cocked his head to the side and finished tying. His dark eyes focused on the straining flesh inside John’s underwear.

John shifted in the strange knots and frowned, “How is he supposed to get me back out of all this?”

“If Sherlock Holmes doesn’t already know shibari, I will eat those loafers over there,” Jim sat back on his heels, “And he can use the internet, can’t he?”

John watched the crime lord slowly stand and casually walk to John’s clothes and shoes, “Wait, what are you doing?”

“Well, he won’t believe you if it looks like you willingly took your clothes off, now will he, John?” Jim tilted his head with a look of shocked innocence on his face then it broke into an evil smile, “Besides . . . I like this sweater of yours.”

John was about to snap something back at him but then Jim was sliding through another door just as the one they’d come in opened and in strode, albeit cautiously, Sherlock Holmes. They stared at each other and John’s cock flexed, “H-Hello.”

Sherlock blinked at him then scanned the room, “Moriarty-”

“He’s gone.” John’s face flushed and he looked away, suddenly feeling so disgusting for setting this up but he couldn’t just _tell_ Sherlock!

“Is he . . . ?” Sherlock frowned and held still then he breathed out through his nose and frowned deeper, “he is. Alright.” he strode more confidently toward the chair and knelt down. He stared at the ropes and knots then slowly looked at John, “He took a great deal of care for this.”

John started to panic, oh  _ no  _ did Sherlock think that he and Moriarty had- ? “He’s strange like that.” The doctor tried lamely.

Sherlock ran a finger over one of the lengths between knots and looked at John with mild surprise when the action made the doctor twitch and tense, “Indeed. Let’s get you out of this and find your clothes-”

“W-Wait!” John said suddenly, a wet spot starting to form on the front of his pants, “Wait . . . “

Sherlock narrowed his eyes, “Why?”

John bit his lip and sighed, “I . . . I like it . . . “

Sherlock snorted, “I can see that, but I don’t think this is the appropriate way to do things also, it’s cold in here.”

John shivered, not having noticed the chill in the air until now, he blushed to his roots and swallowed thickly, “ . . . Way to do things?”

“I’d imagine,” Sherlock started to carefully undo the knots, his long fingers brushing John’s skin lightly and causing goosebumps, “That you would prefer to do this in much quieter, more private places? Where there aren’t cameras?” He pointed over John’s head in the corner where a light-fixture wasn’t entirely a light-fixture.

John groaned and let his head fall back, “Dammit!”

* * *

“Dammit . . . “ Jim muttered from a room down the hall, the door was locked, the guards were unconscious and his cock was in his hand ready to go, “Alright, Sherlock, fine, keep your little sex-capades to yourself . . . Selfish prick . . . “ He looked down at his penis then sighed, picking up his mobile.

**[Sebby, darling, Daddy needs you . . . xoxoxox <3 -JM]**

**{Don’t call me that. B down in 2. Have to put gun away. -SM}**

Jim settled comfortably back in the chair, rewound the tape and stared at John and Sherlock frozen in a moment where Sherlock had to brush John’s cock to get the rope off and John’s head was tilted back with a deliciously desperate look on his face. He smiled and stroked his cock to keep it warm for Sebastian, “Some day . . . some day . . . “

* * *

John wouldn’t look at Sherlock as they took a cab back home, John was wearing some spare clothes that Moriarty had apparently hinted he’d need to Sherlock and the detective consultant was staring out the windshield. The doctor swallowed, “I . . . I’m horribly embarrassed.” He admitted.

“Why?” Sherlock asked, turning his head slightly but keeping his eyes forward.

“I should have said something but-”

“You didn’t think I’d be interested,” Sherlock supplied, “Well, I’m not the most forthcoming with emotions and sharing them so . . . “

“Right . . . “ John murmured, he wanted to die and was shocked to almost yelping when an arm settled around his shoulders.

“It’s alright, John,” Sherlock murmured close to his ear, “We’ll go home and get you sorted.”

John’s blush got darker and his cock throbbed, he watched Sherlock’s painfully certain fingers slide up his thigh and gently caress him. He breathed in and looked helplessly at Sherlock but the man’s eyes were once more forward even as his fingers circled and pressed on interested bits.

* * *

“Not too tight?” Sherlock asked softly, he had not undressed, merely rolling his sleeves up and instructing John to remove all his clothes and relax.

John was trembling, the complex knots and weaving of the soft cord dug into his skin in all the right places and his cock dripped steadily onto the floor where he was kneeling, “n-no.”

“Good.” Sherlock smiled and sat down on a chair in front of the immobilized doctor, “Now, tell me what you want.”

John bit his lip then looked up at Sherlock, he had to be direct, “I-I want to have sex with you, in every way possible. I-I want . . . “ John looked down, shame coloring his face, “I want you to tie me up, spank me, tell me I’m naughty . . . Deny me orgasms and make me beg . . . I . . . I’m so _sorry_ . . . “

“For what?” Sherlock’s voice was calm and hard to read.

Tears welled up in John’s eyes and he squeezed them shut, “Because it’s awful, isn’t it? What I want is a bunch of base nonsense! Saying it out loud just makes me feel-”

“ _ Dirty _ ?” 

John froze as the toe of Sherlock’s shoe slid under his balls and bounced them lightly, he slowly opened his eyes and stared at the action, his cock bounced a bit too, still hard and dripping, “ . . . y-yes . . . “

“Good,” Sherlock shifted in his seat, still rubbing his shoe against John’s balls then he moved his foot and pressed the toe against John’s scrotum, putting just enough pressure there, “You should.”

John was going to start crying in earnest now, he was naked and tied up kneeling in front of the man that he would do anything for and his greatest fears were being reali-

“Because,” Sherlock continued, lifting his foot to use it to make John look up, “Those are very naughty,  _ disgusting  _ things to keep to yourself. Do you touch yourself when you think of them?” His voice was calm and level as ever but he shifted a bit so John could see his own trousers straining.

John’s lip quivered and he nodded slowly, “y-yes . . . I do . . . “

“Where? In the shower? In bed? Where have you been rubbing one out alone?” Sherlock pressed, putting his foot down and reaching for something next to him, holding it in his hands and fiddling with it.

“I-” John swallowed thickly, he was still crying but it was more out of relief, “In the bog sometimes . . . the shower . . . in bed . . . “ He recited then he squirmed when Sherlock leaned forward and held the object up, “Was that bad?”

“Very.” Sherlock turned the object, “Do you know what this is, John?”

“A chastity device.” John answered breathlessly.

“A cock-cage to be more precise.” Sherlock nodded, “Do you know what I’m going to do with it?”

“Make me wear it?” John asked hopefully.

Sherlock cocked his head, “Why would I do that when you just came a bit from the thought? No, John, I’m going to wear it when you’ve been naughty and kept things from me. You can have the privilege of being fucked by me when you’ve earned it. Understand?”

John whined but nodded, “Y-Yes.”

“Hm,” Sherlock leaned back, “Because you didn’t know you were being so very naughty for me, I’ll forgo the punishment this time, but next time I’m going to be very cross with you, am I understood?”

“Yes.” John nodded, his eyes flitting to Sherlock’s erection.

“And when we are being intimate,” Sherlock stood, setting the cage aside and standing at the table, sorting through some things in a black leather case, “You will refer to me as ‘Sir’, do you understand?”

“Yes,” John faltered and added quickly, “Yes,  _ Sir _ .”

Sherlock’s head tilted but he didn’t turn around, his eyes were closed, “ . . . good.” When he turned back around he was wearing black latex gloves and was holding an egg-shaped object on a cord to a remote, “You’ll forgive me for not wanting intercourse yet, I’m not in the mood for it, but I am more than willing to facilitate you.”

John was trembling as he knelt, his hands kept behind his back and he looked at Sherlock, “P-Please . . . “

Sherlock cocked his head and his eyebrows furrowed slightly, “Please  _ what _ , John? Are we already forgetting?”

John grunted and shook his head, “Please, Sir!”

Sherlock smiled slightly and advanced, squatting down and tipping John’s head up with a finger, “That’s better. Now, what are you asking me so sweetly for?”

“I-I want to-” John grimaced and looked down, blushing still. He shook his head, it was humiliating but it also made his balls tighten in excitement.

“Tell me, John, what do you want?”

“I want to fuck-” John started only to yelp when Sherlock smacked him lightly and he thrust his hips automatically, almost unbalancing himself.

“We don’t use nasty, naughty words like that, John,” Sherlock said through his teeth, “Now, use polite language and try again.”

John trembled, the sting from the slap had sent a wave of fire through him, Sherlock knew how to do that too without hurting him and he was panting and straining to stay upright, “I-I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to say that! I-I want to . . . “ John thought hard about how to word this then he whimpered as all the words he wanted to use fell into or near ‘naughty’ territory and he looked up at Sherlock for help.

Sherlock smiled that same mocking smile Jim had used and patted John’s other cheek, “Here, let me help you, I think I know what you want.” He leaned forward and scooped John off the floor, carrying him to his own bedroom, “I think you want me to leave you tied up with a toy up your bottom until you learn some better language.”

John’s eyes widened as he was gently set on the bed, still immobile and now lying face-down with his ass in the air,. That was the exact opposite of what he wanted! “N-No, I don’t-”

“Are you back-talking to me, John?” Sherlock asked severely, “I thought we were learning to be a good,  _ polite  _ boy? Was I wrong? Did we not learn anything yet?”

John opened his mouth then hissed as a volley of smacks landed on his upturned ass, “Ah! S-Sherlock-”

“No, wrong,” Sherlock’s voice became cold, “Wrong _and_ naughty, John, I told you the rules now you’re going to be punished.”

John tried to respond but then his chin was lifted and Sherlock pressed something at his lips. John instinctively opened his mouth then grunted as a large dummy was pushed in and strapped behind his head. He whined as Sherlock let him go then knelt on the bed behind him, he felt something cold being dripped between his asscheeks then a warm finger swirling it around his anus before entering a bit. John let out a strangled whine and pushed back eagerly only to huff as the finger pulled away for a moment. He was about to close his eyes and work on breathing around the gag in his mouth when something cold and blunt pushed in a bit, his eyes widened and he shifted.

“Shh, John, hold still. This won’t be as much fun if you move too much.” Sherlock murmured and leaned over John, “You’re going to be good for me, aren’t you, John?”

John nodded and mumbled into the gag as the object eased in with a  _ pop  _ and he sighed, it was the toy . . . he waited a moment then there was a slight buzzing right against his prostate, it wasn’t a strong enough vibration to feel more than just a ticklish sensation. He groaned softly and squeezed his eyes shut as the other end of the toy was carefully taped to the back of his left thigh. He glared at Sherlock tearfully as his cock twitched.

“Now, you’re in time-out John, so you are to stay here and think about the rules you broke. I’ll be back in an hour to check on you, if you’ve been good and  _ didn’t  _ come from your punishment, you’ll get my cock. If not, you’ll get another punishment. Am I understood?”

John nodded as best he could and kept his eyes shut.

“That’s  _ my  _ good boy.” Sherlock murmured in his ear. 

John felt lips make brief contact before the weight on the mattress shifted and he heard the door close. He whined softly then took a deep breath and tried to relax, if the ache in his balls was any measure, he’d be earning that second punishment before the hour was up . . . John smiled as best he could around the gag and settled into the pillow.  _ “That’s  _ my  _ good boy. _ ” Sherlock had said . . . John gave a strangled yelp and spilled onto the duvet.


	2. Little Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim wants details while John and Sherlock discover some things, agree to some things, and change some things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Felt so good decided to keep going. I've decided that I would like to explore a few different things in the dynamic (possibly changing it a bit as we go). Hope you enjoy!

Jim's nose wrinkled as he rifled through the fridge, “Ugh, how do you two  _ live  _ like this? I think your milk has spoiled!”

“It’s supposed to be spoiled for something Sherlock is- get out of our fridge!” John snapped, arms crossed and eyebrows knit. Of course, he’d been trying to keep calm but also angry the second he’d come in and found Jim perched on Sherlock’s armchair, plucking curiously at the violin, “He’ll know you were here!”

“Mm that’s sorta my point, Johnny boy,” Jim closed the door and turned to lean back on it, arms loosely folded across his double-breasted waistcoat, his tie and suit just perfect and impossibly neat considering Jim had admitted he shimmied up the fire escape and broke in through a back window, “Whenever I come inside the apartment, I purposefully leave things so Sherlock will- again, caught talking about myself.” He rolled his eyes and smiled, “But let's talk about that in more detail.”

John shifted, “Which part of that exactly are you referring to?”

“Me being here,” Jim frowned, “John, stop being coy, you know why I’m here. You know what I’m going to want to talk about.”

John huffed and sat at the table, “Fine. Ask away.”

“Oh, I don’t want to chat with  _ you _ , John, dear, I want to talk to Sherlock. Actually I was expecting him, not you but we can chat until he gets home.” Jim sat opposite of John and looked around, “Do you even _own_ a kettle?”

“Oh no you don’t!” John rounded on the smaller man, grabbing his arm, “You aren’t doing fuck all with Sherlock and se-”

Jim’s whole body stiffened and his expression became furious, “Dr. Watson, you have exactly one second to remove your hand from my expensively tailored and laundered suit before I have the next person you speak to shot. Sit  _ down _ .” He snarled out that last word with grit teeth, dark eyes flashing.

John let go as if burned and slowly backed up to his seat and sat down.

Jim’s face relaxed, he even pouted a bit and cocked his head, “Well! Aren’t you an obedient little boy? Are you this good for Sherlock or is it just my threats that knock you back in line?”

“Will you  _ please  _ get to the point?” John groaned, rubbing his forehead.

“I would if certain people would remain quiet and polite and certain others would stop being late and _boring_.” Jim drawled and leaned back in a bored fashion, he tilted his head, “John, are you having fun with Sherlock?”

“Is that any of your-”

“If you avoid another fucking question, doctor, I’m going to start getting bored and when I get bored . . . well, you know.” Jim snarled, leaning forward, he pulled his suit coat off and slung it over the back of a chair after wiping it with a handkerchief with ‘SH’ embroidered in one corner, he rolled his sleeves up slowly and methodically, not taking his eyes off John, “now answer my fucking questions. Are. You. Having. Fun. With.  _ Sherlock _ ?”

John swallowed and blushed looking down, “ . . . yes.”

“Oh,  _ splendid _ !” Jim smiled and sat down, his eyes crinkling in what may or may not have been a mocking expression, “Now, let’s talk about paying me back.”

“And what do you want?” John asked tightly, his hands clenched on his knees.

Jim didn’t say anything for a moment, his dark eyes unblinkingly staring at John across the table, the toe of his shoe rubbing up John’s shin, he leaned forward and put his elbows on the table, his chin on his folded hands, “I like to watch.”

“You’ve mentioned.” John blinked, “What of it?”

“John,” Jim’s voice became cold but the smile didn’t drop, “ _ John _ , you don’t get to ask the questions, you get to follow commands like a good little boy should.” His foot slid up to John’s knees and pushed them slowly apart, the heel of his shoe resting on the chair just an inch or two away from John’s crotch, “And you  _ like  _ being a good little boy, don’t you, John, my sweet?”

John said nothing and stared at the tabletop, his hands still gripping his knees with the effort of not pushing the foot away or . . . closer? He wasn’t sure at the moment until a sharp rap on the table made him look up. 

Jim was getting impatient but he was still smiling and his voice became soft and smooth as silk, quiet too, “John . . . answer the question, sweetheart.”

John swallowed thickly, “Yes, alright? There,  _ happy _ ?”

Jim frowned and his foot dropped to the floor, “no, I am not  _ happy _ . Since I got here you have been rude and unaccommodating and here I thought you’d be super grateful but instead you act like this. I’m the only brat allowed here right now, John and if you continue to be a brat, I’m going to find a very creative way of leaving you so that Sherlock will stop suspecting and start  _ knowing,  _ if you catch my drift.”

John blinked and looked away, his ears reddening either in anger or embarrassment, it was hard to say, he cleared his throat, “Understood.”

“Good,” Jim smiled disarmingly again, “It’s so much fun to just get along, isn’t it? Now, I’ll repeat the question so we can start over, you like being a good little boy, don’t you, John?”

John couldn’t look at Jim and his face flushed scarlet, “ . . . y-yes, I do.”

“When I ask you a question,” Jim instructed, standing to check the kettle as it started to whistle, “Please do me a favor and recite the question in your response, I talk very fast and I sometimes forget what I asked. Answer again.”

John grit his teeth, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jim looked up and smiled, “I do enjoy doing this to you, I do enjoy watching you squirm while your little prick tries to decide if it wants to hump my leg, I do enjoy watching that blush creep across your precious cheeks and I do enjoy having an erection while I tease you.” He turned back around with a mug in each hand, smiling pleasantly, “there, see how I lead by example? That’s how I want you to answer me. Go on.”

John watched the mug being set down and he frowned, “ . . . too much milk.”

“That’s the perfect amount,” Jim sat down with his own tea, still smiling as he stirred his mug with a spoon he pulled out of his pocket, “John, if I have to repeat myself one more time, you’re going to be punished.”

John swallowed, “Yes, I do like . . . like being a  _ good little boy _ . . . “

“That’s better.” Jim murmured and tasted his tea, giving John a false, simpering smile, “Now, I’m going to drink this tea then I’m going to go and sit down in Sherlock’s chair and you’re going to tell me everything that happened after Sherlock took you home. I want  _ all  _ details. Then you will very sweetly accept my terms and instructions unless Sherlock gets home first in which case we can talk about them together. One big happy family!”

John glared at him, “No.”

Jim stopped stirring and took a slow sip of his tea but didn’t respond. 

John blinked and tried again, “I said ‘no’, I’m not telling you anything we did in the privacy of our-”

“Privacy,” Jim said slowly, his unblinking eyes fixed on a point beyond John, “Is a subjective, fickle animal, you’ll find. A commodity that  _ none  _ of us in this world truly have.” He leaned back, still holding his tea in both hands by his mouth, “If you think for a second that you aren’t being watched every moment of the day then you’re an idiot. And no, before you let that scowl get any deeper, no, I’ve not put cameras or microphones in your flat . . . yet.” He let the threat hang in the air as he continued to sip his tea and not look at John, “Drink your tea, darling and for fuck sake, stop scowling! You’ll wrinkle your adorable _little_ face.”

John glared at him but his heart was hammering in his chest so he resigned to drinking the overly sweetened tea, blanching at the taste but he quietly drank it anyway. His eyes staying on the little madman until Moriarty put the mug down and sighed deeply.

“Alright, I am refreshed, to the parlor! Or whatever! Ye gods, this apartment is  _ so small _ ! How the hell do you two live like this?” Jim asked again as he left his mug on the table and went to sit in Sherlock’s chair with John trailing behind him. Jim started undoing his belt, “Alright, so-”

“What are you doing?” John’s eyes flitted between Jim’s crotch and his face.

“Getting comfortable. You’re about to tell me some dirty smut, I’m sure, and I want to be ready.” Jim shifted his trousers down a bit, a flash of straining, lavender silk-underpants was now visible and John’s face flushed when he realized that they weren’t men’s underwear, “I also intend to masturbate a bit, but you want me to do that so I knew you wouldn’t mi-”

“What makes you think I want to see this?” John snapped but he was rooted to the spot and he knew he was blushing, his own cock twitching in interest.

“Because you want to see my penis.” Jim shrugged nonchalantly as if he’d just commented on the weather, “Not just mine, but a lot of people’s. Honestly, I would think having a gay sister would make you more promiscuous and eager but it made you horribly stunted. How odd. Anyway, sit down and tell me what your daddy did to you after he took you home. You can touch yourself too if you want.”

John sat on the small sofa and fidgeted, trying desperately not to blush or look at Jim’s hand sliding under the panties waist and now the bulge was moving slowly, methodically. He shifted and squeezed his thighs together, willing his cock to not do what it was doing so obviously. The doctor licked his lips, still looking down at his hands, “ . . . he tied me up and left me on the duvet to learn a lesson.”

“And,” Jim’s panties stilled and flexed, “Did we learn anything?”

John frowned, his eyes welling up with tears, his voice shook slightly, “ . . . no.”

* * *

Sherlock came back in and sighed through his nose at the drying spot under John’s flaccid penis, the toy still buzzing faintly, his eyes squeezed shut and his breathing ragged, “ . . . I see.”

John’s jaw ached from biting the gag in his mouth so much and tears were spilling down his face. He tried to speak but the gag made it impossible so it was just a wordless, drawn-out sob.

“I thought you could handle just  _ one  _ little task, John, I see I was wrong.” Sherlock’s voice was severe but soft as if he was scolding a small child.

John tried to shake his head, but he was stiff and sore from his position not changing, he swallowed thickly and started to tremble.

The knots were undone and the rope fell away, Sherlock spent a good deal of time gently massaging John anywhere the ropes had left slight impressions. He waited to undo the gag and John’s wrists until last, preferring to have John lie on his back with his legs crooked up, Sherlock was no longer wearing the gloves and he’d changed out of his normal semi-formal attire. John watched Sherlock’s long fingers stroke and rub around his hips and he made a soft noise of need in the back of his throat once Sherlock’s fingers skirted dangerously close to John’s genitals.

Sherlock looked up from his task and cocked his head, “You’re soft, just relax.”

_ Hard to relax when I know I’m going to be punished . . .  _ John thought, his eyes welling up and spilling over, more out of shame at not being able to resist coming for a few minutes like a teenager than at the idea of being punished which made his cock stir a little and twitch.

* * *

“ _ Ooh _ ,” Jim drawled in mock surprise, “If I’d known you were such a slut for domination I would have kidnapped you sooner.”

John didn’t say anything.

Jim's panties were moving more insistently, deliberately, “John, I’m only teasing you, keep going.”

“ . . . please don’t make me-”

“ _ Keep. Going. _ ” Moriarty’s voice became cold, “We're learning a great deal.”

“He didn’t punish me,” John said softly, “I mean, he  _ did  _ but it wasn’t that he sp- . . . _spanked_ me or anything.”

“Why not? I thought you liked spanking.” Jim frowned, the panties stopped moving and his hand reappeared, tapping the thin line of hair just below his navel.

John squeezed his eyes shut a moment, “I  _ do _ , that’s why he didn’t do it.”

“Ah,” The hand disappeared again, the panties moved again, “What was it then? How do you punish someone that’s a glutton for it, sweet boy?”

John’s lip shook slightly and his hands gripped his knees-

* * *

Sherlock stood and started to undo his belt, John’s eyes wide as he was now sitting up ungagged and completely untied, “I told you, John, if you couldn’t be a good boy, you’d have to have things taken away.”

John’s eyes remained glued to Sherlock’s hands as they undid the button and fly, he’d never seen Sherlock naked, never seen above the elbows, below the neckline . . . his cock stirred further and he whined with the effort of not touching it. He felt the sharp eyes of the detective on him and he lowered his head, snuffling, “I-I tried to be good, I promise I did.”

Sherlock cocked his head back, “We aren’t playing that game right now, John. You’re John Watson and I’m Sherlock Holmes. We’ll play again when your punishment is over but for now, you can just be my boyfriend and I’ll be yours.”

John’s head snapped up as he processed all these things, “R-Really?”

Sherlock stopped with his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his trousers, “Yes, really, you don’t think that I’m so motivated by sex that I would devise this elaborate scene and persona for just anyone, do you?”

John started to cry in earnest now.

* * *

“Oh my  _ god _ , you two are adorable!” Jim’s panties moved furiously like a small animal was trying to dig its way out, “You actually  _ cried _ ? Oh, Johnny  _ boy _ darling!”

John glared off to the side, “Stop making fun of me! I thought this was what you wa-”

“It is  _ exactly  _ what I want,” Jim confirmed, his tongue caught between his teeth a bit, “Isn’t that sweet? How long do you think he spent researching BDSM dynamics? Did he give you a special word when the tickles get scary, John?”

John bit his lip.

* * *

Sherlock dropped his pants and John’s eyes, still streaming, stayed riveted to the detective consultant’s penis. He didn’t have an erection, which surprised the doctor a bit because if he’d walked into a room and seen Sherlock equally trussed up, he’d probably ejaculate so hard, his balls would retreat up inside his body.

A dark eyebrow cocked and Sherlock produced the cock-cage in one hand while the other slid down to hold the base of his penis, “I’m doing this because I know how arousing it is for you. I don’t particularly care about sex, but this isn’t about that, is it, John? It’s about intimacy and being able to be free of the rigidness society has pushed on you. The army. Your parents. Catholic school.

” He smiled as his cock and balls fit into the cage and he clicked a small padlock in place, pocketing the keys and pulling his pants back up before sitting down opposite of John, “I understand.”

John swallowed thickly, drawing his legs up to his chin and pressing his face into them to hide his tears and blush even though Sherlock was well aware, “D-Do you . . . ?”

“Yes,” Sherlock said gently, kindly, putting a hand on John’s shoulder, “I do. I want you to feel safe with me, not just in bed but everywhere.” He leaned forward and kissed John’s forehead, “I’ll be your dom or your daddy or whatever other role you need, John, because I love you.”

John cried harder, his knuckles white.

* * *

“Are you so unused to aftercare?” The panties had been still for some time and both Jim’s hands were visible on the armrests. He cocked an eyebrow, his expression openly curious.

John swallowed and breathed in slowly, “ . . . never had a reason for it before.”

“That’s the problem with this prudish society,” Jim muttered, glancing at his panties, “Everyone’s so uptight. Do you want to do this for me?” he gestured to the panties.

John shook his head, “No, thank you.”

“Not without Daddy’s permission, hm? That’s a good boy,” Jim nodded slowly, “Keeping your dirty little hands to yourself, mustn’t touch other men’s naughty bits unless Daddy-”

“Jim,” John said sharply, finally looking up, “You’re probably not going to listen to me and ignore this anyway but please,  _ please  _ I am begging you,  _ please  _ don’t do that . . . “

Jim was quiet, his face unreadable for a moment then he nodded, “As you wish, but if I do that for you, answer this question.”

“Fine.” 

“Would you?”

John shifted then nodded, “I would.”

“Consider me satisfied on  _ that  _ front then.” The panties moved again, “Continue. What’s your special word, John?”

* * *

John cried into Sherlock’s shoulder for some time before they were lying on the bed together, Sherlock spooned John and would press his caged cock against John’s backside while long fingers stroked over twitching flesh to find little spots that made him whimper or breathe in sharply through his nose.

“Cumberbund.” Sherlock said suddenly, “I hate that useless article, say that if things get too intense and I’ll know to stop.”

John nodded slowly, “ . . . anything else?”

Sherlock kissed the back of John’s neck, “Is this alright?” He asked quietly, “Am I doing things correctly?”

John nodded and wiggled back, “it’s perfect.” he sounded, and was, a bit breathless, still naked and tingling from the restraints, “ . . . wish you’d put something inside me.”

“You’re being punished.” Sherlock reminded softly and it made John’s cock flex, a cool hand slid to the doctor’s hip, “We’ll have sex, John, don’t worry. I don’t intend on letting you ache for me too long. But ... I need time too.”

John blinked then laid back, “Do you . . . do you feel aroused by me?”

Sherlock rolled over too and stared at the ceiling, “I feel . . . intrigued by the idea of our coupling and it does excite me on some level. I’m asexual, John, not a robot,” He turned his head to regard John, “And if it was with you, I’d be happy with it. I feel safe with you.”

John blushed and slowly sat up, “Do we . . . do I have to keep this here? Would I embarrass you terribly?”

“I don’t understand.” Sherlock got up and went to John’s chest of drawers, pulling out a few articles and tapping his fingers on the drawer handle while he thought, “Keep what here? What would you potentially embarrass me with?”

John stared at his hands then looked up as Sherlock sat back down with a stack of clothes in one hand, he reached for them but Sherlock held them back so he sat back against the headboard, “ . . . what if we’re on a case,” He said softly, his eyes looking at his half-hard penis dubiously, “And I need . . . I need to . . . “ He flushed a deeper scarlet and closed his eyes, “Call you ‘daddy’ or I need a cuddle or something?”

Sherlock was quiet then he laughed.

John looked up in dismay and his lip quivered, he was about to snatch the clothes, dress and demand to be left alone but Sherlock leaned forward and kissed the end of his nose.

“Of course you can, as long as we aren’t in the middle of getting shot at or chasing a suspect!” Sherlock laughed again, “John, I am aware that this isn’t just a sex thing and you aren’t just using it to get an erection. I do understand that this is part of you. You’re a Little, John, it’s alright.”

* * *

“That’s so  _ precious _ .”

“ . . . could you not be touching yourself while you say that?” John mumbled.

“Why, are you feeling vulnerable?” Jim asked seriously, cocking his head, “You should get a stuffy to snuggle when you do, or a blanket. Littles love blankets.”

John stood up angrily, “Stop making fun of me!”

“I’m not!” Jim snapped, “Sit  _ down _ and finish the story.”

John glared at Jim and stayed standing, breathing heavily and he’d had enough, “No! I’m not going to keep divulging highly personal shit while you play with yourself! It’d demeaning and-and-” He swallowed thickly.

Jim regarded John, “But you  _ want  _ to tell someone, don’t you, John? You want someone to know these details, you want someone to ask you about the experience you had, you’re just angry that it’s me and that I’m so damn interested, that I’m  _ riveted  _ and hanging on so desperately to your every word. Did he make you keep up that ‘sir’ nonsense? I’d imagine not once he realized you needed a more loving touch to your fetishes.”

John frowned and sat back down, “ . . . I need more friends.”

“The kind of discussion you’re hoping to get requires a deeper, more intimate relationship than just ‘friends’, John, how many people would tie you up like that?" Jim asked and his voice was very gentle, almost soothing to the point that John wondered what it would feel like to have his hair stroked while spoken to like that, “You need someone who knows you, who won’t judge you because I  _ don’t,  _ John! I don’t judge you needing a Daddy and wanting to be tied up, or how you like to cry a little during a scene, how you are practically  _ dripping  _ at the thought of Daddy giving you your first stuffy or onesie. You’re almost in tears right now as I’m talking about it because you yourself realize how badly you want that, am I wrong, John, dear?”

John burst into tears, he couldn’t help it, he hated Moriarty for being right on every point, how the atmosphere in his bedroom had abruptly changed when Sherlock correctly labeled him and how Sherlock shifted the rules a bit to be more tender, softer.

Jim’s hand ran through John’s hair as he sat next to him on the sofa, his pants around his knees now but the panties didn’t stir and now John could see they had lace around the legs, “Finish the story.”

* * *

Sherlock gestured to the clothes, “Come on, let’s get you dressed, been a long day and you haven’t eaten.”

John reached for the clothes again but Sherlock pulled them away again. John cocked his head in confusion.

“I’ll do it.” Sherlock said smoothly, taking John’s hand still suspended in the air and lead him off the bed. The tall man knelt on the floor and held the waistband of John’s underpants.

John stepped into them and watched Sherlock ease them up his legs and tuck him away in them, “ . . . Sherlock?”

“Hm?” Sherlock helped John into his trousers and stood up, his fingers deftly brushing against his skin.

“Do you . . . do you love me?” John whispered, not looking at Sherlock.

There was a pause, “Do you have to ask? Or be told?” He ran his fingers up John’s neck and cupped his face, “If you require affirmations, I can give them to you in abundance, and they would be true. You will have to remind me to do that however, not due to carelessness but you already know that I don’t exactly follow societal norms. So if you need me to tell you I love you, I can and will enthusiastically.” he was quiet as his eyes trained on John’s, “To answer your question, yes, I do.”

John bit his lip and smiled shakily, “I love you too.”

Sherlock smiled, helped him into a sweater and took John’s hand, “Let’s put some tea on.”

* * *

“You’re kidding.” The panties stopped moving and a brow furrowed, “You didn’t have sex? Not at all? What about this morn- what do you  _ mean _ by shaking your head?!”

John huffed, “We had tea, talked a bit about something he was working on then we went to bed.”

“Together?” Jim asked hopefully.

“Yes, Sherlock insists on me sleeping with him in his room now.” John nodded, “he’s become very particular.”

“I see he has started dressing you as well.” The pants are pulled reluctantly back up to hide the lavender silk panties and Jim slumped on the sofa next to John, staring ahead.

John ducked his head, “How can you tell?”

“Does he wipe your bottom too?” Jim let his head loll to the side and regarded John with a rather put-upon expression.

John scowled, “No.” He glared at Jim, “Why are you so upset?”

“Because I still have a boner and now I have blue balls as well,” Jim grumbled, “You won't touch me until Daddy gives you permission, I don’t feel like getting one of my many, many consorts to deal with it because I wanted to hear about how you were laid out for Daddy, whining and begging but not touching because you know you shouldn’t, you need to be a good boy and behave, after all. I wanted to hear about how Sherlock eased you open and dripping for him, how he gave you a shirt to press to your nose and breathe in deeply as he eased his prick inside you. How you whined softly at being fucked, not for the first time, but certainly this time is different.” Jim shrugged one shoulder, “How you came too early and Sherlock spent a long span assuring you that it was alright, don’t cry, Daddy isn’t disappointed, sweetie, he’s happy he could make you come so easily and we’ll try for round two, don’t worry.”

“Not really your business, is it?”

They both turned as Sherlock stood in the apartment doorway, frowning at them. Jim smiled widely while John looked mortified, sputtering desperately to explain while Jim laughed and Sherlock stood there. The blonde quickly got to his feet, “Sh-Sherlock, it isn’t what it looks-”

“I know what’s going on, John, calm down,” Sherlock said softly, his voice even and calm but his eyes were dark as he looked at Jim, still giggling at him, “I’ve known for some time that our mutual friend here was behind your coming out to me. He’s not stupid enough to hurt you and he knows the  _ limits _ so I’m not concerned that he’s here but I hope he remembers that John Watson is  _ not  _ a pawn for him to-”

“Oh please, don’t flatter your penis so much, my love,” Jim smiled widely and stood up, adjusting himself so his erection stood out in sharp relief against his slacks, “I’m not so vulgar a person as to use sex pawns, that’s government work. No, I just love Johnny boy’s use of descriptive words.”

“Jim.” Sherlock’s voice dripped with warning.

Moriarty smirked and sauntered over to wrap his arms around John, “Sherlock.”

“John.” John said in a bored way, but he was anxiously tapping his thigh, “Are we done here?”

“I think I am.” Jim murmured, looking at Sherlock, “Daddy dearest, will you make sure our little boy is bathed and fed before bed tonight? Oh and I left some presents for him in your room, poor Little thing didn’t have any toys or clothes acceptable for his age! How neglectful!”

“I’m quite capable of taking care of-” Sherlock’s voice rose slightly

“Of course you are!” Jim’s eyes widened in aghast and he let John go to stride over and slip a hand into Sherlock’s jacket pocket, “That’s why you’ve been at the library scouring for information on how to properly care for your Little Boy and how to be a good Daddy, far from prying, curious Little eyes . . . you’re a good Daddy, Sherlock Holmes. Now, from one doting, generous Daddy to another, take the presents as a kind of starter kit, explore them, enjoy them.”

“Why are you doing this?” John asked, frowning in bewilderment.

Jim frowned and fixed him with a reproachful look, shaking a finger at the doctor, “Sweetheart, the adults are talking, you have to be quiet and sit still like a  _ good boy _ .”

John’s ears reddened and he looked at Sherlock who was equally confused but the detective consultant nodded minutely and the doctor slowly sank back down on the sofa. Confused and a little anxious as he peeked at them curiously.

“See?” Jim quirked an eyebrow, “Forget crime and war and all that horse shit we amuse ourselves with when the normal people are about as entertaining as drying lead-based paint, Sherlock,” He smiled that simpering, pouting smile, his eyes large and he leaned in to whisper in Sherlock’s ear, “Look at him, Sherlock, practically vibrating with how badly he wants to please you and you haven’t given him so much as a teddy bear or coloring book! Get your head out of Google’s ass for five seconds and talk to your Little, Sherlock, ask him what makes the tickles happen in his prince parts, ask him what kind of sugary snacks and juice he likes, make him giggle when you give him a cuddle, bathe him, tuck him in at night, exaggerate how proud you are of him over mundane, stupid things like coloring in the lines on a picture. Watch him carefully, he’s showing it all to you, and I know how hyper observant and intelligent you are.”

Sherlock’s eyes stayed on John who was looking back up at him with flushed cheeks and shiny eyes, the tall man put a hand on Jim’s shoulder and carefully pushed him back, “I’ll take your advice to heart. Thank you.”

Jim snorted, “The starter kit has a lot of Little Johnny’s favorite things, not that you didn’t already know what they were, don’t scowl, I know how closely you pay attention! I just went out and found them in appropriate forms.”

“And what do you want in exchange?” John asked softly, knowing that Moriarty didn’t do anything for free.

“Thought you’d never ask. Now,” Jim stepped to the kettle and poured himself another mug and sat in Sherlock’s chair, “I had thought to demand a camera be put in but given that the dynamic of your relationship has altered slightly to where we aren’t just talking about sexy, steamy shibari and spanking, I’ll refrain from that request. John is particularly anxious about his newly revealed kinks and I will respect that, for now,” He sipped his tea and watched Sherlock carefully as the tall, thin man slid his coat off and sat next to John, taking the doctor’s hand without prompting anything to which John responded quickly by scooting closer and leaning his cheek on Sherlock’s shoulder a bit, “That being said . . . let’s do _playdates_.”

“Playdates?” Sherlock’s eyes narrowed.

“Yes, my darling,” Jim nodded and grinned like the Cheshire cat, “John is a good boy so he’ll play quietly, maybe Uncle Jimmy will bring him presents or something to occupy him with. Does he like puppies? Of course he does, what Little doesn’t like puppies? Anyway, while sweet baby boy is playing, you and I will chat. You’ll talk to me about your newfound role and I’ll tell you what you’re doing wrong and how to do things correctly because, my lovely, you are inexperienced, you went to  _ the library _ for pity’s sake! What are you? Eighty-five? Dull. No, you’ll get your information from more reliable sources than fanficiton and that god awful website, Tootler or Tumbling or whatever. We will chat, John will play, then I will go away until our next playdate.”

“You won’t be doing any crime?” John asked, frowning, the idea of being . . . being ‘small’ in front of Jim made his insides twist a bit but also this aspect of him being so seamlessly accepted and treated so normally did make a small bubble of warmth drift through him.

“Oh, I’ll still be  _ working _ ,” Jim sipped his tea and added more milk, “Uncle Jimmy has to be able to afford presents for his boy as well as you, John, sweetie. No, I’ll still be Moriarty, criminal mastermind, but on playdates let’s not talk shop, hm?”

Sherlock was quiet as he regarded Jim for a moment, “Why?”

“Because this is entertaining! It's _fun_ , Sherlock, you know what 'fun' is, don't you? Besides,” Jim leaned forward, “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you just how much, my erection hasn’t gone down yet. John is a vivid storyteller and I would love to see first hand how adorable he is when he’s in Little Space, does he replace ‘r’ with ‘w’? Some do that, it’s so _cute_.”

“If we agree to this, I have some terms.”

* * *

John stared at the things spread out on the bed, he fidgeted, he wanted to touch everything but also wanted to just stare and take it in. There was a plush hedgehog with matching hooded onesie with sock/mitten attachments, a pacifier, two coloring books with crayons, a large fuzzy blue blanket but there was also a baby blue dildo that vibrated and would expand when inserted, a chastity belt with ‘TIME OUT’ tooled into the front, a cock-shaped attachment for his pacifier, padded handcuffs, a wooden paddle with ‘Daddy’s Little Helper’ carved into one side, a sounding bar, a blue cockring and a tube of cupcake flavored lube and spool of baby blue colored ribbon.

“He . . . certainly thought of everything.” John whispered, he was fiddling with the one thing that Jim had handed him himself before leaving. It was a collar, baby blue like everything else with a heart-shaped tag with ‘Johnny’ etched into it and a small padlock, also heart shaped, dangling from the buckle.

_ “When he’s proven to be a good daddy to you, give him this. It can be symbolic if you aren’t fond of wearing it, but it means the same.” Jim winked then left. _

Sherlock nodded slowly, a finger stroking over the paddle, “Indeed.”

John looked up at Sherlock, “ . . . can . . . can I-” he broke off and shifted, looking shyly up at Sherlock.

“Yes?” Sherlock’s eyes focused on John for signs that the blonde was slipping back into Little Space, it was subtle but he could tell.

“Can I wear this?” John plucked at the onesie.

“Of course.” Sherlock murmured, “Do you want help?”

John hummed and nodded.

* * *

“What terms?” Jim asked, wide eyes sparkling.

“You don’t do any more things that make John uncomfortable, even outside of Little Space,” Sherlock said seriously, “Keep your hands out of your pants and keep those on as well unless agreed otherwise. I’m not going to pretend that John isn’t also erect and that you two weren't discussing things pertaining to our sex life, it is  _ ours  _ not just mine so I have no qualms about John sharing things, I doubt you would leak anything given that you seem over your penchant for humiliating me?”

“ _Indeed_ , this is much more fun.” Jim said, ignoring the first half it would seem, “Anything else?”

“Let it be understood,” Sherlock continued, enunciating each word carefully, “That if you molest or harm John, I’ll take it as grimly as if you had done so to a child. No, he is not a fragile porcelain doll that needs protecting, he’s a grown man and I respect that but here in this apartment is his safe space, this is his home where he shouldn’t be embarrassed or frightened. If we do these ‘playdates’ you suggest, you will treat John as you would a child, you will talk kindly to him and refrain from vulgar language, you will not discuss his genitals or what he does with them unless in a professional manner regarding questions I might pose about certain topics we are more than likely going to discuss. You will not touch John’s genitals or attempt to incite arousal by touching him. You will not go through his things and you will stay out of our bedrooms unless invited. In fact, you won’t do  _ anything  _ in this apartment without being invited to do so, am I understood?”

“ _Indeed_.” Jim smiled widely, “And I’ll not bring any weapons, I’ll be polite to your housekeeper, bring Johnny a present and turn off my phone. I will, of course, still have someone on a nearby roof but you knew that already.”

“ _Indeed_.” Sherlock agreed, narrowing his eyes, “One more thing.”

“Hm?” Jim looked at Sherlock still smiling but the corner of one eye twitched in annoyance.

“Is the advice, the  _ wisdom  _ you’re intending on imparting me with coming from a place of mutual enthusiasm? That is to say, are you in fact someone’s caregiver or are you pulling this out of your ass?” Sherlock’s voice was cold and had a finality to it.

Jim was silent for a few seconds, his eyes moved ever so slightly to the window then back to Sherlock, he didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh, and he didn’t move. He slowly opened his mouth and the wheedling, pouting tone was gone, he spoke softly and calmly, “How do you think I know how to get information from him? I’m not armed, Sherlock, I didn’t force my way in here or demand anything, not really anyway. While mine is rather surly and can, at times, need a firmer hand, my darling baby boy, Sebastian, my darling Sebby, is well-kept and spoiled rotten. Yours needed someone to talk to, so nervous and anxious about expressing himself that he’s cried twice during our little chat. I’m not an honest man, Sherlock, nor am I a good one, a moral one, or even a decent one, but I will be completely and totally frank with you right now and you can decide if you believe me or not.” Jim stood up from the chair and carefully finished his cup of tea, set the mug down on a coaster and smiled, “I take my role as Daddy very seriously, deathly seriously in fact. My boy is very shy and doesn’t much like socializing but perhaps I can convince him to come and play with Johnny, you’ll see then what my little tiger thinks of me. Now, I must be off, many errands to run!” He took his jacket from the back of the chair and slung it over one shoulder, “May I ask John for a kiss on the cheek? Uncle Jimmy is flying off on a business trip and won’t be back for an undisclosed period of time.”

Sherlock looked at John and John looked at Sherlock, he shrugged a bit and fidgeted. Sherlock grimaced, “No, James, John isn’t alright with that.”

Jim pouted forlornly, “After all the presents I brought him! Oh well, no matter, he’ll see them and feel guilty. I’ll be in touch, ta!”

* * *

John laid back naked on the bed while Sherlock slid the cock ring onto his semi-hard penis, changed him into clean briefs and his new onesie with the sock and mitten bits zippered into place. He bit his lip and smiled up at Sherlock as he fondled the doctor a bit before zipping the onesie up the rest of the way. He sat up once dressed and grinned up at Sherlock from under the hood, “It fits pretty well.”

“Mhm.” Sherlock nodded and stroked his fingers over John’s jaw before popping the phallic pacifier into the blonde’s mouth, “Let’s go in the sitting room, I have work to do.”

John followed Sherlock, holding his hand through the mitten and he sat on the couch with his stuffed hedgehog and a coloring book. He eagerly busied himself with the crayons which were a bit harder to hold with the mitten on but he did his best and didn’t mind all that much. He giggled around the penis-shaped paci when Sherlock tugged the short tail of the onesie and he looked up at Sherlock, still smiling.

Sherlock bent down and kissed John’s forehead, “Be a good Little Boy while Daddy works, hm?”

“Mhm!” John nodded and went back to coloring.


	3. Sharing is Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Johnny is somewhere he shouldn't be and Jim loses his patience.

John wasn’t sure why he’d been there at the time; Sherlock had mentioned something about Jim wanting to show him something. So, he went to the place on the card that had somehow gotten in his windbreaker-pocket, but the details of before were blurry as blood spattered across his face and shirt. The man that had been shot gurgled and fell backward. The blonde stood perfectly still, his chest rising and falling and eyes wide.

“Oh dear . . . you weren’t meant to see that.” Jim said slowly as his men cleaned up the mess, “John, are you with me?”

John didn’t answer, his eyes staring straight ahead as the ringing in his ear persisted, the sound of the gunshot echoing just beneath it.

“Ah,” Jim grimaced, “You aren’t. Alright, c’mon, Johnny, that’s it, good boy, let’s go.” He gently tugged John out of the foyer, “You’re early, sweetheart, I was supposed to be done with my work by the time you came here.” He was talking very fast, “Your daddy phoned me but that doesn’t matter right now does it? Don’t fuss, you have blood on your face.” He licked the handkerchief with ‘SH’ embroidered on it and tried again to wipe at the blood on John’s face.

John grimaced and pulled back, pushing Jim away a bit and looking around as things started to settle in his ears and mind, but he could still see the man getting shot and falling. He pressed his hands on either side of his head and made a low whining sound, squeezing his eyes shut.

Jim made a huffing noise. “If you come with Uncle Jimmy, he can get you sorted, Johnny, sweetie, but you need to be a good boy and open your eyes, here take my hand, come on.”

John shifted to his other foot and slowly opened his eyes, Jim was holding his hand out and it took John a moment or two before he slowly reached out and took it. He resisted the urge to suck his thumb or cry or anything else embarrassing as he was led down a long hallway to a door.

“I apologize for how far from the door this is, but Sebby, my little tiger, likes to keep things discreet. He’s particular like that,” Jim smiled faintly then frowned, “Oh . . . “

On the door was a large piece of butcher’s paper taped haphazardly to the wooden panels that said ‘Sebastian’s room! Bugger off!’ with a poorly drawn skull and crossbones underneath it. John blinked at it then looked at Jim curiously.

Jim was frowning still and he shook his head, tearing the sign down, “If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a thousand times not to use tape on these doors, it ruins the finish. Not even counting that he used vulgar language . . . he _knows_ better.” He sighed resignedly and shoved the door open, “Don’t worry, Sebby is out on a job and won’t be back for a bit so you can get settled and calm down before then. Here we are!”

John peeked around Jim at Sebastian’s room, it was furnished with shelves of toys, books, and had a number of posters of cars and snarling wild animals. There was a large bed in the shape of a race car on one side, and in the middle of the room was a low table that had two overflowing totes, full of toy cars and race track pieces respectively. John blinked around then startled when Jim made a loud squawking sound and hurried to the bed where he pulled the duvet over a large, white stuffed horse that looked . . . _very_ stained.

“That tears it! I told him not to leave that filthy thing everywhere or I’d throw it out but oh no, can’t let Bigsley get washed or he ‘doesn’t smell right’ . . . he’ll just douse it in my cologne again, get another spanking and the cycle continues . . . “ He looked apologetically at John, “I’d let you have a lie down but . . . don’t touch that horse, it’s Sebastian’s, er, _special friend_ when Daddy isn’t around and he gets tickles.”

John blinked at Jim then looked around, “. . . this is Sebastian Moran’s room?”

“My Little Sebastian, yes,” Jim nodded, “You didn’t think I kept an actual _child_ around? Ew. _No_.” Jim shuddered, “Now, let’s get you cleaned up and changed, you’ve had a shock, haven’t you? Don’t cry, sweetheart, it’s alright.”

“I’m not crying.” John mumbled, looking at all of Sebastian’s toys, picture books and he probably had a whole closet full of-

“Here, everything will fit you since Seb is so much bigger than you, you are toilet trained, aren’t you, Johnny boy?” Jim asked seriously as he held the closet open to reveal rows of onesies and other articles hanging on racks.

John’s cheeks flushed, “Yes, I’m toilet trained.”

“Ah, we remember Uncle Jimmy’s rules, very good!” Jim beamed and pulled a onesie out that was a bright green dragon, “Do you like dragons, Johnny?”

John shifted and nodded slowly, looking at his feet, he was actually starting to feel a lot better just from the tone of Jim’s voice and the surroundings.

“Do you need help or are you big enough to dress yourself?” Jim asked softly, unzipping the onesie and slipping the hanger out.

John mumbled out that he’d need help and started to feel shy, he peeked at Jim and shifted his weight to his other foot.

Jim smiled knowingly and moved up to John, “It’s alright, Johnny, Uncle Jimmy isn’t going to touch you or hurt you, come on, that’s a good _good_ boy.” John watched Jim undo his windbreaker and slide it off then his sweater, shirt, shoes and Jim stopped with his fingers on John’s belt, “Incidentally, can you use the bathroom on your own?”

“I said I’m toilet trained.” John muttered sullenly.

“I know,” Jim nodded seriously, “Sometimes little boys need help, lots of things to keep track of. So, do you need help with that?”

“ . . . not usually.” John mumbled, his eyes fell on the toys and he didn’t notice his belt being pulled open or his trousers falling to the floor until he was prompted to lift his foot and put it through the leg of the dragon pyjamas then he let Jim pull it up to his shoulders and slip the hood over his head before zipping it up. John felt much, much better as the soft, warm onesie made him feel secure and calmer, he was handed a beige stuffed dog with one of the eyes missing, large patches sewn across the back.

“There we go! Hold still, I’m going to get a picture for your daddy, he’ll love it!” Jim took his phone out.

John shied away from the camera, ducking his head and holding the dog with both arms tightly. He whined softly as he was led to the table. Just as Jim sat at the table and pulled out some crayons, John noticed that Jim was wearing a plain, black, hooded sweater and a pair of loose fitting jeans and no shoes. John’s eyes widened as he quickly sat down, “I like coloring.”

“I know you do!” JIm smiled widely and produced a coloring book, “Hope you like animals; Sebby has a fixation on them: big scary jungle beasts mostly.” He watched John for a few moments as the blonde picked out a picture to color and a few crayons, his tongue caught between his teeth, “Johnny, how old are you?”

John was quiet for a moment, staring at the green crayon that was still just hovering over the page; he thought hard about it, “Four.”

“Oh, so you’re a big boy now,” Jim nodded and sat back, leaning his weight on his hands, “Do you have a paci with you? Would you like one? Sebastian is not a fan of them very much but I still have some.” John pointed at his discarded jeans and kept coloring while Jim retrieved them and went through the pockets until he found John’s blue pacifier, he smiled and walked back, holding it out, “Here we are!”

John took it and popped it into his mouth, sucking on the nipple and closing his eyes slightly, he was just about to ask if maybe he could take a nap when the door burst open.

In strode a tall blonde man wearing all black with a pair of dog tags hanging around his neck and a long scar on the side of his face, he dropped his heavy bag with a thump and growled, tugging the long-sleeved shirt over his head then stopping when Jim whistled at him. The man blinked slowly and put his shirt down, “ . . . what is _he_ doing here?”

John fidgeted and wanted to hide but Jim patted the top of his head and scowled at Sebastian Moran, “Now, Sebastian, that’s a very rude way to introduce yourself to new friends! This is Johnny and he’s waiting for his daddy to come pick him up. I told him you would play with him for a bit but I don’t know,” Jim stood up and stalked over to Moran, “You’ve been a very naughty boy, Sebby, very naughty indeed. Firstly you put a sign on your door with **_t a p e_ ** and I know we talked about that but we also talked about your choice of language, and I know that ‘bugger’ is one of the no-no words that Daddy said would get you punished. Also, you left Bigsley on your bed _again_ and I warned you that if you did that-”

“You didn’t wash him, did you?” Sebastian asked, glancing at John then the bed, “He didn’t _touch_ Bigsley, did he?”

“Oh like I would let anyone touch that thing, it’s practically biohazardous material at this point . . . “ Jim muttered, “Relax, your _special time friend_ is unwashed and unmolested . . . by us anyway.”

Sebastian frowned and looked at his feet.

“Now, why are you stomping around the house? That’s also rude, you know Daddy doesn’t like a lot of noise.” Jim crossed his arms, “Sebby, did you not do a good job with your project?”

Sebastian looked up suddenly, “No! I did the _best_ job at it!” 

“Then why are you so upset?” Jim asked, narrowing his eyes. There was a pause, John watched intently as Sebastian’s shoulders tensed and he scuffed his boot on the floor, glancing at Jim who laughed and squished Moran’s face between his hands, “You silly! It’s just a dented bumper, a broken axle and a knocked out headlight plus some property damage, nothing to get upset over! Now why don’t we get you changed and you can come play with Johnny like a good boy?”

Sebastian blinked then looked at John, pointing at him, “Those are my pyjamas! And why does he have Patches and he’s using my crayons!”

John blinked at the tonal shift in Sebastian’s voice and he realized that Jim hadn’t been lying, his top assassin was slipping down into Little Space. He watched curiously as Seb started to gear up for a massive fit while Jim tried talking calmly to him with ‘what did we talk about with sharing, Sebby?’ and Sebastian was having none of it until Jim dragged him to a corner and started talking in a harsh whisper, pointing a finger at John then at Seb then at the assassin’s groin menacingly. Sebastian’s expression changed and he huffed and nodded then slowly went to the closet and started to pull out a pair of pyjamas.

“There now we can all get- Oh, no, Sebby, please, Daddy told you he would buy you new ones! I thought I threw that ratty thing out.” Jim sighed in defeat and sat back down next to John.

Sebastian scowled as he tugged a tiger onesie out of a bag in the bottom of the closet,, it was faded and the knees, elbows, bottom and crotch were all worn so thin that you could see through them but Sebastian stubbornly stomped over to his racecar bed and sat down to unlace his boots. He started to undress then stopped when he caught John looking at him curiously, “ . . . I want Patches back . . . “

“Sebby, you have a lot of toys, please stop.” Jim said tiredly, “Daddy had a long day and if you’re extra good for him while John is here, we’ll take a long bath and Daddy will let you play with him. Alright?”

Sebastian grumbled sulkily and undressed completely, standing fully naked and making John blush. Moran was muscular and covered in scars with a tattoo of a tiger on one shoulder; it wasn’t a snarling or angry looking tiger, it’s claws weren’t out and it wasn’t baring its fangs, it was just standing there, peering out of his shoulder as if curious. John stared openly at Sebastian below the waist too and he felt something stirring with interest, he wiggled a bit to get comfortable again and tried to go back to coloring.

“Sebby,” Jim said, standing and taking his hand, leading him to the closet, “What did Daddy say about showing everyone in the world your private parts? That’s a _no-no_ , Sebby, Johnny doesn’t want to see them no matter how proud you are of them. That’s naughty, Seb!”

Sebastian put up a fuss about wearing underwear, whining that they were always ‘too tight’ and, “But I want to play with them!” He grumbled as Jim made sure the waistband was where it should be and he carefully arranged Sebastian’s bits.

“After, Sebby, _after_! Let’s just sit quietly and color for a bit, alright?” Jim sat down again and sighed, “You’re such a good, quiet boy, Johnny. Does your daddy have to yell at you all the time?”

John shook his head, popping his pacifier out, “No, Daddy doesn’t yell at me.”

“There, you see?” Jim gestured between Sebby then John, “Johnny is a good boy, Seb, why can’t you be a good boy too?”

Sebastian stood in his pyjamas for a moment and he bit his lip, glaring at John, “He broke the blue one . . . “

John looked at the blue crayon that he had indeed accidentally snapped in half, he had hoped no one would notice and he hurriedly swept it under a piece of paper, shifting his weight again.

Jim pointed at the spot next to him, “Sebastian Moran, you sit down and stop being petty this instant or you’re going down for a nap after a spanking and Daddy will put your bits in time out, do you understand?”

The spot between Sebastian’s tiger legs started to stir a bit and he quietly, almost meekly sat down next to Jim, folding his arms on the table and putting his chin down, glaring at the tote of cars before he pulled it closer and started to set some up in front of him.

“There, that’s better, isn’t it!” Jim beamed, reaching over to pet Seb’s back and shoulders, “You’re such a nice boy, Sebby! This is why it’s so hard for you to make little friends; you cover up how shy you are with being a naughty boy! Other little boys and girls would like you so much faster if you’d stop being so mean!”

Seb’s cheeks flushed, and he didn’t respond.

Jim’s hand dropped to Sebastian’s lap and he leaned in, “Are you grumpy because you’re hungry, Sebby, my little tiger? Did you not eat the snacks Daddy had packed for you?”

Seb kept looking at his cars and shrugged.

“Oh for pity’s sake, Sebby!” Jim got to his feet and headed to the door, “I’ll get someone to make you a sandwich how you like it, now behave, I’ll be right back.”

Sebby watched Jim leave then looked at John, his eyes narrowed and he flicked one of the cars, it shot across the table and bounced over the coloring books, hitting John in the hand as he reached for the green crayon.

John jumped back, yelping so that his paci fell out of his mouth and he shook his hand, “Ow! Hey!”

Seb smirked and flicked two more cars, laughing when they jumped up too and hit John in the shoulder then one hit him right in the nose. Seb blinked and sat up, “Uh, oops.”

John’s eyes squeezed shut; it had hit him hard enough to make him see stars, and something dripped onto his lip. John blinked then reached up and brushed at it, holding his hand out to see, and it was a small bit of blood. His eyes widened at the sight and he could hear the sound of gunshots, blood was everywhere, and he was bawling. He wasn’t sure when or why he’d started crying, certainly his nose had smarted something fierce, but he’d been punched before and had broken bones. He’d been shot and fallen from high places, but he was bawling all the same, wiping the blood off his hands frantically. He only managed to smear it and his frantic motions made the blood drip onto the onesie, upsetting him further until John was panicking and trying to get the onesie off.

Seb hurried over, grabbing onto John’s shoulder, “Hey, you’re fine! It didn’t hit that hard! Oh for fuc- I mean, please stop! Stop crying!! Stop!” he shook John a bit which only seemed to startle the smaller blonde further, “Uh! Uh! Uh!” Seb looked around then he grabbed Patches the beige dog and a blanket and pulled John into his lap, wincing slightly. He tucked the blanket tightly around John anyway, pushed the pacifier back in his mouth, and snuggled him, “It’s okay, I’m sorry, it’s not from bad people . . . no one will hurt you here . . . Daddy doesn't let anyone hurt me and guns are a no-no in my room . . . I’m sorry I flicked the car at you . . . I thought you were lying.“

John started to calm down, his nose hurt still but it wasn’t bleeding anymore, but he had to squeeze his eyes shut tightly or he’d see the rusty colored spots of drying blood and the scary bits would be back . . . 

“Alright, Seb, I brought you a- what’s going on?” Jim looked at the pair curiously then frowned, “Why is there blood on John’s onesie hood and lip, Seb?”

Sebastian shifted, “I . . . I was flicking cars an’ . . . an’ I hit him in the nose with one... but I said I was sorry, and he isn’t crying anymore!”

“I see.” Jim’s frown deepened and he crossed his arms, “Why were you flicking cars, Sebastian?”

Seb slowly shifted John to the floor to sit next to him and he swallowed, “I . . . I was-“

“Were you trying to _hit_ John with a car, Sebastian?” Jim’s voice rose.

Seb started to scoot back, his lip quivering, “N-No! Well yes but I thought he was faking-”

“John,” Jim tried a different tactic, he squatted down, taking a clean handkerchief out, this one also embroidered with ‘SH’ in one corner and he gently dabbed at John’s eyes and then his nose, “Did Sebastian purposefully hit you with his toy car? No, don’t look at him, he’s a naughty, rude boy. Look at me… there we are. Answer me, Johnny, pudding, did he do it more than once?”

John fidgeted and nodded slowly, looking at his hands, “Mhm . . . “

“I see . . . “ Jim stood and grabbed Sebastian’s wrist, “Get up.”

“No-o!” Sebastian whined, pulling back, “I just got home! Make him go away! It’s not fair! I don’t wanna share my toys or my clothes! He’s-” 

Jim swatted the seat of Sebastian’s tiger pyjamas again, it made another loud cracking sound suggesting that Moran had tensed his muscles first, he got two more swats then was pulled to the door, “You clearly need a nap, Sebastian, you’ve had a long day and it’s making you act out. That’s very bad.”

“But my bed’s here!” Seb pointed at the racecar bed and pulled back.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re going to sleep in the guest room, I know what’ll happen the second your little prick makes contact with that wretched horse! You’re going to go lay down, your private parts are going in time out and John is going to play here. And you can forget what Daddy promised you this morning, Sebastian, now scoot!”

John watched as Jim dragged Sebastian out of the room and closed the door behind them, Jim returned a moment or two later and sighed heavily. John fidgeted, “ . . . he doesn’t like me.”

Jim blinked and laughed, “Sebastian, if you can believe it, is extremely shy, John, he gets overwhelmed and upset easily, and he tends to act out. He’s also spoiled. How’s the nose?”

“It’s fine.” John murmured, sniffing, “It didn’t hurt that badly.”

“Not the point,” Jim sighed, reaching over to pet John’s back, “How are you feeling? Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” John leaned into the touch unconsciously.

“Good, good . . . “ jim smiled, "are you okay enough to talk like a big boy or do you want to color more?" Jim reached over and eased the hood back over John's head, making sure his blonde hair was smoothed down.

John considered the question and fidgeted, "I can talk." He lightly ran his pacifier's nipple over his lips and his tongue darted around it, he wanted to nurse but he could wait.

Jim considered John for a brief moment then smiled, “Let’s talk then. Johnny, I’m curious, I'll admit, so you’ll have to indulge me for a brief moment. I’ve already called your daddy so he knows to come and get you in a bit, probably coming by cab though I don’t understand why he insists on- ah . . . anyway! Talking!” He clapped his hands excitedly, “Tell me about yourself!”

John blinked since it wasn’t a question, “Well . . . what do you want to know?”

“About you! No not that John, not the doctor, I want to know about Johnny, Little you! Tell me about yourself!” Jim leaned over and picked up a few crayons and a picture of a gorilla, selected a bright pink and started adding a very poorly drawn dinosaur eating the Gorilla’s backside.

John blinked, “Oh, well, what do you want me to tell you?”

Jim shrugged, “Here, maybe that was too broad a subject,” He stuck his tongue between his teeth and added a few horns and more teeth to his dino, “You like coloring?”

“Yes.” John nodded then caught the slight twitch of Jim’s eye and hurried to add, “Yes, I like coloring.”

“Good! Sebby likes coloring too, but only when he’s needing a nap. It settles him down. Do you like toys other than stuffies? Cars, blocks, trains, etc.”

John thought about that one for a bit and shrugged, “ . . . I like action figures. Like superheroes and stuff like that. Dinosaurs . . . I like them . . . I do like stuffies though.” He shifted Patches about in his lap.

Jim smiled, “Interesting, so you’re not a total baby soft boy.”

“What does that mean?” John muttered, staring at the picture of a hippo with its mouth open wide and rubbed his pacifier against his lips again.

“It means you don’t want to be completely babied, don’t bother Googling that later, it’s just something I say. Sebby, for example, is not a soft boy, he like his cars and his army men and guns, you’ll notice he only has a few soft toys and those are in very poor condition due to Seb using them when he’s had a particularly bad day or needs something soft to rub between his legs- don’t worry, the puppy is his snuggly-fussy-I-need-a-nap-friend, not like that _horse_ , otherwise I wouldn‘t let you touch the thing. Seb also acts out a lot and needs spanking, time outs, and stern words, he likes the humiliation more than he needs cuddles if you catch my drift. Oh he’s a Little and he loves our special Daddy time. Ah, but we’re talking about you and your Daddy, so what else? What else can I Learn about you?”

John stared at him and he remembered what Jim had said before, that he wanted someone, anyone that would understand to tell all this to, that he could say all the things he wanted or liked without judgement so he slowly put his hands down and his lip shook, “He . . . he hasn’t touched me yet.”

Jim sat up, “No? Where would you want him to touch if he would?” His dark eyes focused entirely on John and they glittered with interest.

John shifted and squeezed his legs together as blood rushed about, he bit his lip and whined softly, shaking his head.

Jim smiled and leaned closer, brushing the hood off John’s head and gently stroked his fingers through John’s hair, “Let me help, you want him to touch your prince parts, your naughty bits that tingle and tickle whenever Daddy looks at you, the places that get hot and uncomfortable, places where you can feel your heartbeat and feels like your going to potty in your underpants. You want him to touch that, don’t you?”

John bit his lip harder and nodded, his eyes tightly shut and he hugged the dog Patches tighter because he was starting to feel it again, the stirrings and tightness.

“Oh, sweetheart, why don’t you speak up? You know your daddy isn’t the most observant unless you're a corpse!” Jim sighed, “I Wish he’d let me help, I could play with you and make the tickles-”

“No!” John scooted back quickly away from the hand petting his hair, “No!”

Jim blinked, “But,” His voice was steady and soft, “I _won’t_ because I promised I wouldn't. Really, John, you’re so jumpy! Sweetie, come back and finish your picture, come on, that's a good boy.” He smiled encouragingly and patted the spot next to him.

John slowly shifted back, but he looked at Jim warily, “ . . . Uncle Jimmy?”

Jim perked up at the name and smiled, “Yes, John?”

John shifted and bit his lip nervously, “ . . . what does Sebastian do when . . . when he gets tickles and you’re not there?”

Jim shrugged and pointed at the bed, “He goes for a pony ride.”

“How?” John asked softly, suddenly his curiosity was getting the better of him and the only reason he’d scooted away was because he was afraid daddy wouldn’t like him playing with Uncle Jimmy like that right away.

Jim stared at John for a moment, he leaned forward and smirked, “Johnny, that’s a very naughty thing I would have to show you and you don’t want me touching your special places, remember? Your daddy-”

“H-He doesn’t have to know!” John said quickly then he bit his lip, “I-I . . . “ John Hamish Watson took a deep breath and put his head down on the table, biting his lip so hard that he felt the skin split, feeling his small space slipping back, “ . . . Jim . . . I’m so horny and I want to have sex so badly but Sherlock isn’t there yet and he’ll touch me but . . . he seems uncomfortable with me being in Little Space for fucking . . . please . . . I’m begging you, please get Little Johnny off . . . I need it so _badly_. . . “

Jim was quiet for a moment then he leaned forward and kissed John’s temple, sliding an arm around his shoulders, “How about this,” He said softly in that soft, soft tone that made John want to cry, “When your daddy comes, we make him an offer with your complete consent, I’ll show him how it will work, I’ll show him how to please Little you, he can watch, masturbate if he’s into that sort of thing, hell I’ll lend him a toy or fleshlight if he wants; and you’ll lie back and be Little. If you’re uncertain of my motives, I’ll use your Daddy’s special word for you, say it just once and I’ll stop and Daddy can take over. How’s that sound?”

John was rocking slightly, his head still on the table but his hips flexed and he rocked, the soft voice tickling his ear making him whine, “Y-Yes.”

“Alright, that’s a good-” The door opened and Jim slid gracefully back to his seat, smiling widely, “Sherlock, there you are!”

Sherlock stepped into the room, his eyes darting about with interest then he stopped and smiled at John, “There _you_ are.”

John blinked slowly up at Sherlock then hid his face in Patches’s fur, he popped his paci back in his mouth and waved a bit.

“Sherlock, I’ve been having a very interesting discussion with Johnny here, you know he’s four?” Jim stood, patting John on the head and pulling his hood back up.

“Yes I knew that, John let’s-”

“Did you also know,” Jim said loudly, “That he’s hornier than a jackrabbit in springtime?”

Sherlock was quiet, he looked at John who wouldn’t look at him then frowned, “I know he has a high sex-drive but we-”

“‘We’re working on it’, that’s what you’re going to say,” Jim chuckled and shook his head, “No, _you’re_ working on it, Sherlock and that’s fine; your specific sexual needs are just as important as his, but John needs an outlet. Sherlock, have you been jerking him off before bed or in the bath? Have you put something nice up his bottom when you aren’t in the mood? Sit down, Sherlock, you exhaust me with how you just stand there, playing at being imposing when I can see your hands shaking because you know I’m right and _hate_ it when I’m right. Sit down.”

Sherlock, much to John’s surprise, looked totally and completely cowed, he slowly went around and sat next to John, his brow furrowed, “Fine, I’m sitting, may we go now?”

“No, you are going to sit right there and watch John color or color yourself. I don’t care, and you’re going to listen to me because I have _had_ it watching this exhausting back and forth. You’re asexual, fine, whatever, no one here gives a shit and you can thank those shapely cheekbones, but John _isn’t_ Sherlock, he’s as sexual as any other . . . are you gay, John? Is that what you are? Gay? You like other boys?”

John shook his head, looking down at the table, “I like both . . . “

“Ah, there you see, you have this special place with him and you’re _squandering_ it, Sherlock, how absolutely _typical_. Go on, Sherlock,” Jim picked out another picture and started coloring, “Talk to him.”

Sherlock blinked awkwardly and grimaced, “About what?”

“Oh stop being so _stupid_!” Jim snapped, putting the crayon down and scooting closer to John, he gently put a hand on the blonde’s back and stroked it, “Johnny, tell Daddy what you told me. Go on, no don’t shake your head, tell your daddy or I’ll be very upset with you. That’s it.”

John’s lip shook and he popped his pacifier out and he shrugged slowly, “ . . . i . . . I want tickles from . . . from you . . . “

Sherlock grimaced, “John, we talked about this, I don’t-”

“Wrong.” Jim said in a very bored, put-upon tone, “Amazing, not even a full sentence and you’re already messing this up. Firstly, never ever talk about yourself in the first person, you are ‘Daddy’, Sherlock, calling yourself that solidifies the experience. Secondly have you not been paying attention? When he’s in little space, he’s ‘Johnny’, he likes being called that, it makes him feel safe and _young_ Sherlock. Call him ‘Johnny’ and yourself ‘Daddy’. Lastly will you please stop making excuses and just explain to Johnny very nicely that Daddy doesn’t always want tickles but that he would _gladly_ give it to his little boy.” Jim leaned forward narrowing his eyes, “If you don’t know what to do, then bloody well _ask_ you idiot!”

John whined softly and lowered his head and Sherlock frowned, he sighed and glared at Jim, “You’re the expert, are you?”

“Yes.” Jim said, his frown deepening, “Do you want my help or are you going to wait for John to become so unhappy that he finds someone else he can make an exception for?”

Sherlock looked at John who looked back at him with large eyes and he leaned closer to him, “Are you alright with that, Johnny?”

John blinked then looked at Jim who stood up and held his hand out, John swallowed and his lip shook as he slowly took the hand and stood up. Jim’s hand wasn’t as small as he thought it was and it was warm as Jim led the way out of Sebastian’s room with Sherlock right behind them. Jim opened one door and they were in a spare bedroom, “Johnny, get on the bed, that’s it sweetheart, Uncle Jimmy is going to show your Daddy a few things and help you. I know it is uncomfortable to have your prince parts so tingly for so long. Mhm, that’s good.”

John crawled up onto the bed and sat on it, nervously playing with the tail of his onesie while Jim rolled up his sleeves and cracked his neck. John watched red-faced as Jim took a box out from under the bed and opened it to show a collection of sex toys.

“Sherlock, sit over there, you can masturbate if you want, I’m sure Johnny will like seeing your penis doing _something_.” Jim muttered, pulling on a pair of gloves and he smiled sweetly at John, “Johnny, how about you lie back on the pillows, mhm, it’s alright, yes like that. Okay now you’re being such a good boy, aren’t you? How about I come cuddle with you a bit, hm? Would you like that? Tell me, Johnny, would you like Uncle Jimmy to come cuddle?”

John nodded slowly, biting the paci as Jim situated him onto his back and carefully slid up next to him. He kind of liked how the other man felt snuggling into him and cuddling him, he smiled a little.

“That’s it, nice and comfy . . . “ Jim murmured giving John a little kiss on the cheek, “Now, you have something you want me to do? You’re a big enough boy to tell me, go on.”

John shifted his weight, pointed hesitantly at his crotch then pressed his face into his arm.

“No, Johnny, if we want big boy touches, we need to use big boy words,” Jim coaxed softly, his hand shifting to gently rub John’s stomach.

John squirmed then huffed and let his legs drop open, his onesie was straining around his groin, “Th-There! I-I want . . . I want you to . . . to touch . . . “ He whined, “I want tickles!” His voice cracked and tears welled up in his eyes, his chest hurt.

“Been a while, hasn’t it?” Jim murmured, turning on his side and he kept rubbing John’s stomach, “It’s alright, we’ll get you sorted. How do you feel? Shh, shh, it’s alright, I know. Can I move my hand?”

John nodded frantically, looking at Sherlock but the detective leaned forward with his elbows on his knees and his fingers steepled in front of his face. “Mhm! Please!” John’s legs squirmed as hands moved way too slow and he was getting impatient.

“Shh, good boy, be patient, you’re doing so well.” Jim’s eyes stayed trained on John, pointedly ignoring Sherlock as his hand dipped to rub the inside of John’s thighs then around to his backside, gently squeezing his left buttock until John was almost sobbing with need, “Oh sweet boy, shh, what’s wrong? Do you need my hand somewhere else? Here?”

John arched off the bed as a hand gently, too gently, cupped and touched his groin, already stiff and interested members were flexing into the deft hand. John groaned when the hand moved back up, “N-Noooo!” He whined and covered his face.

“Shh, Johnny, I’m just getting your zipper! Oh my!” Jim cooed and smiled, pulling the zipper down then he slipped his hand down into John’s underwear, feeling his smooth balls and erection flexing and throbbing against his hand.

John made another desperate, whinging sound and started to bawl, “D-Daddynnnnngh!” He squirmed as tears rolled down his face.

“Alright that’s enough!” Sherlock stood up angrily, “Moriarty, sto-”

“He knows what to say to get it to stop, he’s not crying because it’s happening, _Holmes_ , he’s crying because he wishes it was _you_ that was making it happen. He’s flushed, erect, and _writhing_ for it, Sherlock. And your head is so far up your ass you can’t even smell the shit. How long did you google stupid flowery blogs with tags about being ‘naughty’ and pictures of grown adults in onesies and sucking on pacifiers, Sherlock? Hours probably and you didn’t do the one thing I told you to do! TALK TO HIM!” Jim snapped, he was angry, his voice and face showed as much but his hands remained gentle and soft, which only seemed to drive John further into a wriggling mess, “He’s too small to explain what he wants! He doesn’t know the phrases or words to telegraph his need through your gorgeous curls to penetrate that thick skull! Look at him, Sherlock, really look and describe _out loud_ what you are seeing!”

“You’re playing with John’s penis.” Sherlock said tightly, not looking.

“Oh grow the fu- grow up!” Jim snapped and shifted his hands, using one to cradle John closer to him and the other stroked over John’s erect prick, “I’m doing a lot more than that, now pay attention, might learn something.”

It took a lot but Sherlock started seeing what he was supposed to, answering in halting, confused sentences until Jim was kneeling with a hand deep in John’s onesie teasing his hole while he held a dildo in the other hand, “Here, have him lube that up. No, Sherlock put it in his mouth, feed it to him like a bottle, see if he likes that.”

Sherlock stretched out next to John and slipped an arm around him while a lube-slicked finger was inserted and John arched and whined, his mouth fell open only to grunt as the head of the dildo was pushed in.

John put his hands over Sherlock’s and pulled the toy into his mouth further, sucking on it while his hips worked, the motions oddly soothing and his eyelids lowered slightly.

Jim smirked and leaned over to Sherlock, “now, tell him what a good job he’s doing, what a good boy he’s being. Go on.”

Sherlock shifted and moved closer to John, nuzzling his nose into the blonde’s hair, “ . . . that’s it, Johnny . . . not too much, you’ll choke . . . “

“Good.” Jim nodded then smiled slightly, “Johnny, let’s get you out of the pyjamas before you make a mess. There’s a good boy, what a _good_ boy you’re being for us.”

The onesie was eased off without the dildo or finger being pulled out and the finger was soon joined by a second. John squeaked and whimpered around the dildo but only pulled it deeper, his legs spreading as wide as they could and his cock flexed, a clear string of precum dripping out.

“That should be, give it here.” Jim held his hand out for the toy while his other scissored inside John.

Sherlock shook his head, “I’ll do it.”

Jim cocked an eyebrow and sat back, withdrawing his fingers, “Alright.”

John released the dildo with a wet _pop_ and whined, he reached down and played with himself, his fingers stroking over his own prick and balls. He closed his eyes and whined softly, “MMph! D-Daddy . . . !”

Sherlock bent forward and kissed John’s belly just under his navel as he eased the phallic toy in, “Shh, be patient. Almost in.”

John panted and squirmed then groaned in relief as the toy full sunk into his guts, he bit his lip and reached for Sherlock’s hand. He pulled on him slightly, “Need you, Daddy.” He murmured almost sleepily.

“I’m here.” Sherlock climbed up to the head of the bed and laid on his side then pulled John to his chest so he could spoon him. He carefully arranged them so John’s backside was pressed to Sherlock’s groain. Holmes wrapped one arm tightly around John’s chest pinning his arms while the other reached down to stroke John’s erection. If that wasn’t all bad enough, he kept thrusting against the toy up John’s ass so that it jabbed his prostate.

Soon John was a writhing dripping mess, his balls were so tight that it almost hurt and he felt the building desperation, Sherlock was stroking him too slowly to match the intensity of the toy inside him, “Mmgh!!” John whined loudly, squirming to try and get through his need.

“He’s getting impatient, Sherlock. Talk to him.” Jim said from somewhere out of sight but his voice was tight and breathless.

Sherlock grunted softly, he kissed John’s neck and breathed out, “Johnny, are you getting close? Are you going to come?”

John nodded frantically and thrust into Sherlock’s hand more fervently, “Y-Yes! Please, Daddy, please let me come- let me come- let me- c-come-! I’m c-coming!” John shivered and spasmed, curling his hips as cum bubbled over Sherlock’s hand. John breathed in shakily as he finally stopped coming and made a soft noise.

Sherlock propped himself up on his elbow and carefully took off his gloves, discarding them before glancing at Jim, “Hurry up.”

Jim rolled his eyes, fisted his condom-encased cock faster while he knelt on the bed, his pants around his knees, hips thrusting then he breathed out then gasped and the reservoir filling in several spurts before he tilted his head back and sighed, smiling widely before hopping off the bed, chucking the condom int he wastebin with Sherlock’s gloves and pulled his pants up, “Don’t rush art, Sherlock, darling.” He leaned to the side to regard John then smirked, “Coffee? He’s going to be a bit.”

Sherlock turned back to John and saw that the blonde had fallen asleep, his thumb wedged in his mouth. Sherlock gently cleaned John, redressed him in the pyjamas and tucked him in, “That would be fine.”

“Excellent.” Jim smoothed his sweater and lead the way back out of the room, “We just got this absolutely delicious blend.”


End file.
